


Déjà Vu

by HollyJolly



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Episode Ardyn Prologue Spoilers, M/M, episode ardyn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-09 15:10:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18640615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HollyJolly/pseuds/HollyJolly
Summary: History repeats itself in front of Ardyn's eyes in the most critical moment. It must be Caelum tradition to witness heartache.[Second Chapter: Crack Edition]





	1. Final Work

**Author's Note:**

> My entry for the [Feenale Fantashy Ex-Ve zine!](https://twitter.com/ffexveezine%22) It was so great to work with and see everybody's fun works!

Ardyn treasures the look on the Chosen King's face as they clash metal on metal. To say he's been looking forward to this day was an understatement. He's been  _ dying _ for it. For more than two millennia. And while he welcomes death, knows it's coming, he's not going to sit by and let this Lucian puppet claim victory so soon.

 

No, Noctis Lucis Caelum CXIV is going to have to fight for this one. Is going to have to lose some blood and some sweat. He has done so already--the Covenants saw to that already--but the joy of making this little prince work for something is riveting. Death will be sweet but the image of striking him down is also sweet if not dangerous.

 

Indeed, the idea is so very tempting. He could, Ardyn knows that while Noctis is mighty with the God's blessings and generations of family power in his body, he still is a formidable foe. And watching Somnus struggle as he plunges his sword into his body would be--

 

Ah.

 

Ardyn feels the concrete of what's probably an uptight bank building pound against his back. In the midst of his slight mistake in Lucian brat identities, the power of their two attacks pushed them back. It aches so deliciously, enough for it to snap him out of what could be turmoil of the brain. He's gotten rid of that a long time ago.

 

Right now, he's ready to. End. This.

 

Ardyn puts all his might in to his armiger and swings with ferocity. Noctis is doing all he can to block and swing back. Commendable. But at the rate he's going, he's driving his foe into a corner with almost no way out. He knows the wounds he's inflicting are no final blow but they pile up and leave him weary. Just one blow could finish him off.

 

Ardyn unleashes a polearm from his arsenal and jabs it straight at Noctis. The King has enough strength to grab ahold of it, though, with a smirk. Beautiful. It's poetic to warp right to the end of it, grab ahold tightly, and drive it straight into the raven’s chest. It’s like fate wanted to spin itself around once more, in his favor this time.

 

Now, the pièce de résistance.

 

It's a breathtaking moment, when he swings his sword. It gives Ardyn Lucis Caelum the vivid imagery of another royal arm following a wide arc. Of it ending his life. Right in front of him.

 

Ardyn is seeing it now all over again. Except this time, there's no gown of white to rip to shreds. To turn crimson so rapidly. No ethereal, blonde hair to want to reach out for.

 

It's the body of a broken man, long and lithe, clad in weathered uniform. It's fabric of black and stained earth. It's slicked back brunette hair. And while they are nothing like her, the blood flies just as far and just as much. Just as red as the sylleblossoms she cultivated. Just as red as the fabric she died on. This man rides the same wave of fate as his Aera.   
  
And if the cries of the other is any indication, destiny is having the time of its life replaying events of two millennia ago. 

  
Ardyn freezes wide eyed as he watches Noctis rip the pole out of his chest with no regard to his physical state. Watches him throw himself to the blood stained street. To the blood stained advisor he is gathering in his arms. The Accursed sees the blood staining black so dark that stains shouldn’t be visible, there’s just so much blood.   
  
Noctis has forgotten all about him in the moment, too busy cradling Ignis in his arms. “Please, no, Gods no…” Ignis’ visor has flown astray somewhere between running like mad and leaping into the fray. It leaves his face perfectly open for his marred face to be seen, to see the pain on his brow. Of how his milky, unseeing eyes looking above with a softness to them that betrays the inevitable. 

 

And it’s a real callback to Ardyn’s own memory. Of how even in her final seconds, Aera was looking up at him like he was the most treasured soul. As if he hadn’t been a factor in her slaughter. Just...looked at him with a dying twinkle in her eye and a serene smile.

 

“Noc..tis..”

 

Noctis is losing his ability to breathe back in reality and he’s promising Ignis everything from what Ardyn can hear over the static of memories. “Don’t worry! I promise you! I-I promise you that I’ll--” It’s broken sobs and pleading of the highest degree. As if his words themselves will heal the severed flesh and mend the bones that bleed out on him as he cries.  
  
His near lifeless chamberlain is still smiling at him as he reaches a hand to his King’s face. Noctis takes it without question, removing the glove post-haste and pressing it to the skin of his bloodied, sweat slick, tear stained cheek. Both hands shake as the two bear their souls to one another, eye to clouded eye. As if both sides could see into one another, as if one set could see in general.

 

It’s over soon enough when Ignis’ hand goes limp in Noctis’ grasp. And The Immortal watches with a vacant look as Noctis proceeds to fall apart in the way he’s sure he would if not the scourge took hold.


	2. Crack Edition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the critical moment, the story repeats before Ardin's eyes. It must be Caelum's tradition to see heartbreak.
> 
> CRACK EDITION FEATURED IN THE ZINE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted in [Feenale Fantashy Ex-Vee zine!](https://twitter.com/ffexveezine)
> 
> Translated from English--> Japanese --> German --> English

Ardyn appreciates Chosen King's face when it encounters metals. It was an understatement to say that he was looking forward to it today. He dies for it. For over two thousand years. And although he welcomes death, he knows it will come, but he will not sit down and try to force this Russian puppet to victory.

 

No, that's why Noctis has to fight Lucis Caelum CXIV. You need to lose some blood and some sweat. He has already done it - the Bund has already seen it - but the joy of having this little prince work for something is no big deal. Death will be sweet, but the image of beating it is sweet, if not dangerous.

 

In fact, the idea is very attractive. He was able to do that and Ardyn knows that he is still a terrible poet while Noctis is powerful in creating God's blessing and family power in his body. And so it will be to see the battle of the somnus as he thrusts his sword into his body.

 

Oh!

 

Ardyn probably feels the peculiarities of the pound on the back of the bank. While he easily misunderstood Lucian Brats identity, he was attacked with the power of two attacks. It hurts so much. It's enough to get him out of a possibly diseased brain half. He removed it a long time ago.

 

Now he is ready for the end. These.

 

Ardyn passes all this on to his soldiers and swings cruelly. Noctis does his best to block and look back. Commendable. In the speed at which he moves, however, he scarcely expels the enemy. He knows the wound he's wearing is not the last blow, but they make him tired. I could kill him in one go.

 

Ardan frees the bar arm from his arsenal and hits Noctis directly. The king is strong enough to grab it, but it's still a bit. It's beautiful It's poetic to curve right at the end, grab it tight and drive straight to the crow's chest. Fate seems to have decided for him again this time.

 

Pierre de Resistance now.

 

If he shakes his sword, it's a breathtaking moment. It gives Ardyn Lucis Caelum a vivid picture of the arms of another king, who drew a wide bow. This is the end of his life. It is in front of his eyes.

 

Ardyn keeps looking at it. Except for this time, there is no white dress ripping to shreds. As fast as the purple change. There are no gentle blond hairs that I want to strive for.

 

It is the body of a tall, mute, broken man wearing a weathered uniform. It is a black and colorful glass fabric. It has the hair of the brunette backtracked. And they are not like them, but the blood goes so far and so. As red as Sherebrom, she cultivates. As red as the cloth she died. This man rides on the same wave of fate as his era.

 

And if the other cry is a sign, fate is that the time of his life reproduces the event 2000 years ago.

 

Ardyn's eyes freeze as he sees a tattered pole from his chest regardless of his physical condition. I see him throwing himself when he was stained with blood. He has turned into a blood-stained adviser in his arms. Because Floures sees black blood, the spots should not be visible because there is only blood.

 

Noctis forgot all about him at the moment, too busy keeping Ignis in his arms. "Please, no, it's a god ..." Ignis's visor was lost somewhere between a crazy run and a jump into a fight. It keeps his face completely open to see the bruised face and see the pain of his eyebrows. How to reveal that it is inevitable that the look on his milky white, striking eyes is soft and up.

 

And that's a real recall of Ardyn's memory. In her last seconds, Aera looked up to him as he was the most troubled soul. As if he was not involved in their slaughter. Only ... saw him with a fiery death and a gentle smile in her eyes.

 

"No ..."

 

Noctis loses the ability to actually breathe. And he promises all Ignis what Ardin can hear about the silence of memory. Do not worry. I promise you! I promise you that you will be me. They are broken socks and first-class complaints. As if healing his own words, heal the cut flesh and heal the bones that come out of it when he cries.

 

When he grabs the face of his king for the rest of his life, the close sentences still smile to him. Noctis undoubtedly takes it off, quickly takes off his gloves and presses them against his bloody, sweaty cheek skin. When two people connect their souls, their hands tremble. As if both sides could see each other

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nuts? Find more at the tweeter @HollyJollyPaca

**Author's Note:**

> Like funny? Like more feenale fantashy? Tweeter me at @HollyJollyPaca


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